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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661623">morphogenetic feels</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrecho/pseuds/Lyre'>Lyre (Lyrecho)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>AI: The Somnium Files (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dealing With Trauma, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hey Mizuki Is Twelve You Ever Think About How She Probably Feels Irrational Things, Oneshot, Resolution Route Canon But With An Alternate Epilogue, Talking Through Feelings, The Good End Was Great But God Did The Route Itself Give Mizuki The Short End Of The Stick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:28:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrecho/pseuds/Lyre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Are you gonna have someone pysnc with him, then?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Boss’ answering smile is a smirk. “Yeah, the only issue is that it’s gotta be someone close enough to Date to be able to puzzle their way through whatever bizarre locks his brain throws up, while still having a high enough psync rate with him to make the connection.” Her smirk deepens. “Lucky for me - and for Date, I suppose - that I have several candidates in mind. And number one… is right in front of me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mizuki blinks, and raises up an uncertain hand to tap a finger against her chest. “Me?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Boss laughs. “Yes, Mizuki, you.”</em>
</p><p>Breaking through the shell, and beginning to heal into a family.</p><p> <a href="http://isle3cho.tumblr.com">|Tumblr|</a></p><p> <a href="http://twitter.com/PASSlONLlP">|Twitter|</a></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Date Kaname &amp; Okiura Mizuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>189</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>morphogenetic feels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shevi/gifts">Shevi</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>happy bday shevi!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mizuki doesn’t know who Aiba is, but Aiba knows her. She’s sure of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiba calls her by name. There’s panic in her voice and familiarity in her eyes, and a love Mizuki can read even without knowing how - whoever Aiba is, she’s clearly not human.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no time to worry about that, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Iris is in danger. Hitomi is in danger.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And -</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Date. Date needs her help.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki Okiura grits her teeth and picks up her metal pipe. She’s not standing by and doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> while she loses the people she loves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s never going to lose anyone again, not if she can help it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting shot hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing Date cry, even in an unfamiliar body, hurts more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki didn’t know Aiba, but Date did. She didn’t love Aiba, but Aiba, somehow, loved her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She kind of wants to cry, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, silent and pained, she clings. She twists her fingers into Date’s jacket - he looks so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>older</span>
  </em>
  <span> now, and his jaw is different, and his hair, and his voice, and his </span>
  <em>
    <span>scent</span>
  </em>
  <span> - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hurts. But when she curls up next to him, not even meaning to do it, he lifts an arm and pulls her closer. She’s shivering - from the cold of the warehouse, the shock of the bullet - but Date’s warm, even when he doesn’t feel like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Date</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Falco?” Hitomi’s call is low, and hopeful, and Mizuki feels Date turn with her to look at her teacher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hitomi’s gaze is fixed on Date, her arms clenched tight around Iris, who is also looking their way - looking at Date - like he’s a miracle come to life. A confusing, bloodied, middle-aged miracle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t call me that,” Date says, but doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>deny</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hitomi’s question, and something in Mizuki’s stomach just </span>
  <em>
    <span>drops</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “It’s… it’s Kaname, now. Kaname Date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Date,” Hitomi repeats. She doesn’t seem surprised. Her lips shape his name like a vow. “How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Date sighs, rubs the back of his head with the hand that isn’t attached to the arm Mizuki has claimed, and winces. He’s in some serious pain, probably; not just emotional, but physical. Mizuki hadn’t really taken a long, hard look at his eye, because just a glimpse had made her want to throw up, but panicked streams of thoughts about open wounds and all the dirt and germs that have to exist in an abandoned warehouse won’t stop flowing through her mind. If it isn’t infected now it will be soon, and while Ota had been reassured on the phone that </span>
  <em>
    <span>help was on its way, young man,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it feels like they won’t get here fast enough to save Date.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s lost an eye before, Mizuki. Calm down.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When he lost the last eye he wasn’t old! Don’t tell me to calm down.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She argues with herself; an old coping mechanism. Date doesn’t really care when she talks back to him, or speaks out of turn - as much as he bitches, he accepts that giving her shit means taking shit back. Old habits die hard, though, and if she’d ever tried to argue with Mum she would’ve gotten a slap for her cheek. Her disrespect. Keeping all her thoughts and feelings bottled up inside was how she coped with that. How she still copes with it, sometimes, almost half a decade on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s...a long story,” Date says, sounding reluctant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, too bad for him, because Mizuki is </span>
  <em>
    <span>going</span>
  </em>
  <span> to hear the explanation -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to hear it,” Hitomi says. “Your story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iris speaks up next, pale and trembling, but still as bright as ever. “Yeah! We’ve got a while til emergency services will get here.” She pauses, and forges on. “Uncle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Date jumps, slightly, but he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>smiling,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and something deep inside of Mizuki </span>
  <em>
    <span>sinks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mizuki.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gentle hand, warm and light on her arm. It’s shaking her. Mizuki jerks awake, and nearly falls onto the floor. She blinks, and Hitomi is leaning over her, concern painted over her face. “Mizuki,” she says, “are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Throat raw, voice rough, Mizuki croaks out a “yeah.” Hitomi doesn’t look quite like she believes her, and Mizuki honestly can’t blame her. It’s not like she believes herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure we can find you somewhere more comfortable to sleep,” her teacher murmurs, hand still resting on her arm, but gaze lifting up, to look around the hospital hallway they’re all sitting in, slumped in hard plastic chairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss - Date’s Boss - had wanted to take them down to the station, for questioning, but Mizuki had been ready to scream and scream and </span>
  <em>
    <span>scream</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be allowed to stay in the hospital until stupid Date was out of surgery if that’s what it’d take, and, maybe sensing the oncoming tantrum, she’d said they could stay - for now, so long as they didn’t wander off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was just fine with Mizuki. It’s not like she had anywhere else to </span>
  <em>
    <span>go,</span>
  </em>
  <span> anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t wanna sleep,” she mumbles. She sits up, and rubs at her bleary eyes as she yawns so wide her jaw cracks. “Waiting for news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in Hitomi’s expression sinks even as it softens. “He’ll… he’ll be in surgery for a while, Mizuki,” she says, “and asleep for even longer after that. I know it’s scary, and that you’re worried, but depriving yourself of sleep won’t help </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody,</span>
  </em>
  <span> sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki can only blink at her. She’s making sense, she really is, but whether it’s the shock or the lingering pain in her leg, even after being stitched up and being given anesthetic, she isn’t quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>following</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Hitomi says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hitomi sighs. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you convince me you were okay to get out of your own hospital bed,” she says. “No matter </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> the doctor said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> registers, and Mizuki can’t quite help the small giggle that breaks out of her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A reluctant smile flickers to life on Hitomi’s face. “Here, sweetheart,” she says. “Lean on me, okay? I’m more comfortable than these </span>
  <em>
    <span>chairs.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki still doesn’t want to sleep - but the hospital is cold and the chairs are hard, and Hitomi is soft and warm, so it’s easy to let herself be tugged down into her teacher’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> to fall asleep, but she does anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweet dreams, Mizuki,” Hitomi says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The surgery went well,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the doctors say, once it’s all over. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He should make a perfect recovery.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The relief Mizuki had felt then was beyond words. Beyond description at all. Date was an idiot, sure, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> idiot, and - though he’d sucked at it about eighty percent of the time - he’d raised her for almost half of her life. For most of her life that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> clearly remember.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d lost mum, and she’d lost daddy, and she couldn’t lose Date too, on top of everything and everyone else. She just </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’ll be okay,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the doctors said. Boss said. Hitomi said, and for the first time in days, Mizuki felt like she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span> again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a little while, everything seemed like it would go back to normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Date </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t wake up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s staying with Boss, for now, while they wait for Date to exit his coma - Hitomi had offered to take her in, and Iris’ excitement at the idea had almost gotten Mizuki excited, too, but Boss had shut it down almost immediately. Hitomi hadn’t protested too much after that; she knows, after all, that they’re probably all still on shaky ground with the government after learning all the confidential info that they shouldn’t have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Boss reassures her that Date won’t be in trouble over it when he finally wakes up. Mizuki isn’t sure how reassured she actually feels by her words and promises.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a part of Mizuki that’s weirdly, vindictively glad that she won’t be staying at the Sagan household, for reasons she doesn’t really want to admit to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Falco,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hitomi had called Date. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uncle,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Iris had said, eyes lit up with relief and disbelief and awe as she took in Date in his new - old? - body, when all it inspired in Mizuki was a confused, worried sort of dread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, yeah. She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>just fine</span>
  </em>
  <span> staying at Boss’ house, and spending her days bored out of her mind either in Boss’ office at ABIS, or at Date’s bedside, waiting for the idiot to finally wake up and say something stupid so she knows he’s okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Even if, sometimes, Boss makes her feel less fine. She doesn’t think she’s doing it deliberately, actually - Mizuki’s pretty sure she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make her feel better. He’s just failing miserably; whether that’s because she’s bad with kids or just bad with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mizuki,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she doesn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re sitting in Boss’ office, Boss behind her desk working on - on something, some paperwork, and Mizuki just wants to stop thinking about Date for a moment. She swings her legs, kicking at the air as she turns conversation starters over in her mind, and finally, she settles on:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell me about Aiba?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss startles, and looks over at her with surprise clear on her face; it softens to a melancholy sort of understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Mizuki,” she says. “What do you want to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to know why Aiba loved me so much, but I never even knew she existed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything,” she says, “I want to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been a week, and Date still hasn’t woken up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki has stopped trying to hide it. She is Officially Worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iris has stopped trying to hide it, too - not that she ever really bothered, in the first place. It really, really shouldn’t bother Mizuki that Iris visits Date just as much as she does - especially when Iris is sick and going into hospital for surgery of her own, soon - but it. Well. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>does.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t like to think about why, so she doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he just won’t ever wake up,” Iris says, one day when they’re both sitting in Date’s stupid hospital room together, and Mizuki has never known Iris to be anything but perfectly happy and bubbly a hundred percent of the time, but ever since Saito, and learning about just how sick Iris is, she’s seen more and more of that… darker side to her friend. A hollowness in her eyes, a bleak, defeated outlook on life. “I finally found him, and I’m getting my surgery - just in time to lose him all over again.” A bitter, humourless laugh; tears she doesn’t seem to notice trailing down her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll wake up,” Mizuki says firmly, even though she isn’t sure she believes what she’s saying herself. “He </span>
  <em>
    <span>will,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Iris. You’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iris sniffles and scrubs at her eyes. “Yeah,” she croaks out. “Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think,” Boss tells her, two weeks into Date’s coma, “that I’ve figured out what’s wrong with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki perks up on autopilot. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss’ smile is faint, and tired, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>real.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Really,” she says, then gets serious. “Mizuki, do you remember how psynching works?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods once, firmly. “Date explained it,” she reminds her - explained it twice, really; before he’d psynced with Mizuki back when she’d been mute, and again, sitting on the floor of that warehouse, waiting for help to show up after Saito was dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes,” Boss says, “a psyncer will get lost in their own brain - behind their own mental locks. Honestly, a psyncer is probably more prone to mental shutdown than most other people, given just how easy it is for them to get lost in their </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> mental locks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you… think that’s what’s happened with Date?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m almost certain that’s what happened,” Boss says. “He was used to psyncing with Aiba, and he was forced to go through a rough psync in a prototype machine as the dreamer - he was fine at first, but once they got him sedated, it doesn’t surprise me at all that he got all tangled up in himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That… doesn’t sound good,” Mizuki hedges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss waves her off. “It’s fine,” she says. “In fact, it’s better than fine; theoretically, if this </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> what’s wrong with Date, all we need do to wake him up is have someone psync with him, and make their way through his mental locks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki shifts in her seat - slightly uneasy with the mention of psyncing; she couldn’t remember anything that had happened when Date psynced with her, of course, but he’d told her enough afterwards (inadvertently, through his questions, once she’d turned them over in her mind later) that it had left her mortified with just how much of herself - </span>
  <em>
    <span>deeply private things!</span>
  </em>
  <span> - had been laid bare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s excited, though, and relieved, by the prospect of getting Date back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna have someone pysnc with him, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss’ answering smile is a smirk. “Yeah, the only issue is that it’s gotta be someone close enough to Date to be able to puzzle their way through whatever bizarre locks his brain throws up, while still having a high enough psync rate with him to make the connection.” Her smirk deepens. “Lucky for me - and for Date, I suppose - that I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>several</span>
  </em>
  <span> candidates in mind. And number one… is </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> in front of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki blinks, and raises up an uncertain hand to tap a finger against her chest. “Me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss laughs. “Yes, Mizuki, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Something uncertain and afraid crawls down Mizuki’s throat like an oil drenched caterpillar; slick and </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” she starts, chokes, stops, and begins again: “I - </span>
  <em>
    <span>me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The amusement in Boss’ eyes trades out for something far more serious. “Hitomi or Iris could have done it too,” she allows, “but I think you’re our best option, for several reasons. Would you like to hear them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soundlessly, Mizuki nods. She doesn’t think she’d be able to speak even if she tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, firstly, your psync rate with Date is the highest of any of you,” Boss says. “Not by much, sure - but by enough that it might make even the slightest difference. And secondly - and most importantly, in my opinion - you’ve been living with Date for almost half a </span>
  <em>
    <span>decade.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dark, serious eyes lock with hers. “You know him, as he is now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> better than Hitomi and Iris do - not to mention the fact that Iris is probably too sick, now, to safely play the role of the psyncer. You are our </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span> shot, Mizuki.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Throat tight, Mizuki swallows. It’s painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do it,” she says, no hesitation. She doesn’t even have to consider it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss smiles at her; bright, blinding. “Let’s get everything we need ready, then,” she says. “We’ll have Date back before you know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Six minutes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mizuki had been warned. Six minutes to get through Date’s messed up brain, drag the idiot out of it, and get back out herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s totally got this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s what she tells herself, when Boss activates the psync, but being honest? She has really no idea what she’s getting herself into, here. Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> what kind of messed up imagery Date’s brain will think up?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever Mizuki is expecting, it’s not what she sees: their apartment, but… </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Colour is bled from the world entire; everything painted over in shades of greyscale. The walls and furniture glitch from one shape, one position to another - it takes Mizuki a moment, but after a period of baffled staring, it clicks: this isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> their apartment; it’s their apartment bled through </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iris’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>house. It took her so long to recognise it because it isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Sagan house as Mizuki knows it, from her occasional visits… this must be what it looked like back when Date was Falco.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She isn’t sure how she feels about that, and there’s no time to think about it, because she’s on a timeline. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Find Date, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she tells herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and get out. Worry about the rest </span>
  </em>
  <span>later, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mizuki.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The first lock is easy to get through, once she identifies it, and the second is, too - she can’t help but smile at the memories as they play out, trying to ignore both the surprise she feels that she features </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> heavily in Date’s core, guarded memories, and the discomfort she feels that, back in the control room, Boss is seeing </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The third lock is a bit harder, because she doesn’t have any frame of reference for it - the colour signalling it lights up in a Sagan part of the somnium, and Mizuki knows this isn’t a memory about her; she has no way to trigger it beyond trial-and-erroring it until she gets it </span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Which would be fine if, you know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she wasn’t on a time limit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She scowls, and gets to work. Eventually, her frustration gets the better of her, and she flings the plate she holds across the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Incredibly - that. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>works.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mizuki is suddenly surrounded on all sides by another washed out yet still warm memory, and Iris looks so </span>
  <em>
    <span>small</span>
  </em>
  <span> in it as she runs around squealing, coated in flour, the kitchen a mess. Date - or Falco? - chases her with a smile on his face, while Hitomi watches them fondly from where she leans up against the kitchen counter. The laughter of all three of them echoes out, and Mizuki blinks rapidly around tears as a painful lump wells up in her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Third lock down.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have three minutes left, Mizuki!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss’ voice comes from everywhere and nowhere, all at once, and Mizuki jumps, regathers herself, and gets back to work, subtly dabbing at her tears with her sleeves as she wanders over to the corner of the room where colour has newly bloomed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her...backpack? She frowns, and reaches down to touch it -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers brush against a tag, and she activates the fourth lock without even intending to - </span>
  <em>
    <span>and sees something impossible.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A memory plays out, one of her and Date - but it’s not a memory Mizuki remembers making in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe - maybe some of the locks are… made up of wishes, rather than actual memory? Things Date </span>
  <em>
    <span>hoped</span>
  </em>
  <span> would happen?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish… for Mizuki to grow up happy and healthy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The lump in her throat from before is back, and even more painful this time. This isn’t a real memory, the two of them at the shrine like this, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span> did Mizuki wish it was. It was okay to admit that here, in Date’s somnium, where the idiot couldn’t hear her and no one else was around.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish… for Mizuki to grow up happy and healthy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She has a job to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gets back to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Date is awake, he’s out of the hospital as fast as he feasibly can be. Three days after Mizuki pulled him out of the maze of his own somnium, and he’s discharging himself despite the entirety of the hospital staff frowning at him as he does so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How were things, while I was out?” He asks Mizuki, as he helps her unpack her bags. She’s still not used to his voice. Or his face. She’s not sure she ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> be. “Was Boss okay? With you, I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki shrugs. “Better than you, stupid Date,” she mumbles. “Making us all </span>
  <em>
    <span>worry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Date seems amused, but - also apologetic, and deeply guilty. It’s a weird expression to see on a weird face; neither suit Date at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Mizuki,” he says, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>sounds</span>
  </em>
  <span> like he means it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span> be,” she scowls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even a week after Date’s returned to the land of the waking, Iris takes her turn playing a sleeping beauty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Date and Mizuki go to see her before her surgery, before they put her under. She’s smiling when they come into her hospital room, but it’s clear to Mizuki that both Iris and Hitomi are terrified. Iris clings to Date’s hand when he offers it to her, knuckles white, and seems slightly reassured. Mizuki tells herself it’s petty to be upset by this. Iris is about to have </span>
  <em>
    <span>surgery,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she shouldn’t be feeling so - so insecure! Not right now!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How you feeling?” Date asks, looking between Hitomi and Iris both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scared,” Iris says bluntly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Terrified,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hitomi admits, then looks ashamed about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Date smiles, like he’s trying to be reassuring. Mizuki still hasn’t figured out it it works better or worse with </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> face. “You’re going to be fine,” he tells Iris. “This is a pretty standard procedure, after all. What’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to suck is the recovery period.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something both relieved and concerned flashes across Iris’ face. “Thanks, Uncle,” she says finally, and that Date doesn’t have any sort of reaction to the address stabs at something </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere</span>
  </em>
  <span> deep inside Mizuki.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, it’s when she’s struggling over that that Iris turns to her with bright eyes and an open expression. “Mizuki!” She cheers, and lets go of her grip on Date’s hand to open her arms wide towards Mizuki. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever. Come here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, well. No matter how </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mizuki is feeling, Iris is still absolutely and one hundred percent one of her closest friends - almost what she’d always imagined a big sister to be like, really - and she’s about to go through something really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> scary, so Mizuki’s moving to lunge for her offered hug before she’s even thought it through.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oof,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Iris says when she makes impact, and shifts back a bit in her bed, but she doesn’t complain. “Aw, Mizuki!” She squeezes her tight. “I love you, too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Mizuki looks back at the adults in the room, both Hitomi and Date are looking down at the two of them with something like relief in their eyes. At some point, a group of doctors walk in, and Mizuki knows, with sinking disappointment, that that is their cue to leave. Iris’ hold on her briefly tightens, before slackening, and vanishing altogether.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you after, okay?” She says, and smiles at Mizuki, tight and tense and scared all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll film you when you’re loopy on drugs,” Mizuki promises, solemn, and feels accomplished when Iris’ following laughter chases some of that darkness in her eyes away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>such</span>
  </em>
  <span> a good friend,” she coos, and then Mizuki is being lifted up and away, and she finds herself in the hall with Date and Hitomi, standing to one side and waving as Iris is wheeled away to whatever surgery room they’re taking her to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hitomi takes in a deep shuddering breath, and Date reaches for her. She’s curling into him, resting her head on his shoulder, almost immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki pretends not to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iris’ surgery goes perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki wants to keep her promise and film Iris when she’s out of it on painkillers, but Hitomi and Date remind her that she probably won’t be awake for a day or two yet, so Mizuki lets Date drag her out of the hospital - eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki doesn’t often have nightmares, but when she does?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey - hey, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mizuki!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Date’s voice, but it isn’t Date’s voice, it’s wrong wrong </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Mizuki misses </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> Date. Maybe it had been Saito’s face, but she hadn’t known that! None of them had! And this new Date is sad and tired </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the time</span>
  </em>
  <span> now in a way that was way worse than the old one, and she hated it!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> Date back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Concerned dark eyes flick all over her, sweaty and huddled and crying on her bed. “Bad dream, huh? You want to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re going to leave me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she says, mulish, tearful, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Date sighs, and settles on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under his weight. “Something’s been wrong for a while, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sniffles, and resists the urge to hide her face in her knees as she drags them up to her chest, and locks her arms around them. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since… that night, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to talk about it? Or am I supposed to guess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki shrugs, like she doesn’t care - but he knows, and she knows; she does care. A lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck, a tic he’d never had </span>
  <em>
    <span>before.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I have a feeling,” Date says slowly, “that you’re just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> overwhelmed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki makes a derisive sound. “What makes you say that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> overwhelmed, and I didn’t go through nearly as much as you did, I don’t think.” He doesn’t quite frown at her, but there’s something in his pursed lips that’s close to it. “Normally you’re more eager to talk to me,” he says. “Or, okay - maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>eager</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t the right word.” He leans in close. “What are you afraid of Mizuki?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you’re going to leave me alone now that you remember Iris and Hitomi, and because - because m-mum and daddy are dead I’m gonna - I’m gonna be </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she sobs out before she can catch herself, and her voice breaks on ‘alone.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t see super well through her tears, but if she had to put a name to Date’s expression as he freezes up next to her, it would be ‘stricken.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s - that’s why you were so nice to me this whole time, wasn’t it? You were just looking for someone to replace - ” </span>
  <em>
    <span>your real daughter </span>
  </em>
  <span>“ - Iris, and now that you’ve found her, you’re going to - ” </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave me all alone, just like mum and daddy -</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, hey, hey.” Hands on her shoulders, gripping tight. The size is wrong. The voice is </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> Date. This is - this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iris’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Date. “Mizuki, hey, you need to breathe, you’re hyperventilating.” One hand grabs hers, tugs it to his chest. “Feel how I breathe? Do it with me. In, out. In, out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki obeys automatically, without thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it, Mizuki,” Date murmurs. “Good girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-so-orry,” she chokes out between sniffs, and he tells her </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s okay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been through a lot,” he says. “And you might be the smartest kid I know, Mizuki, but you’re still just </span>
  <em>
    <span>twelve.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It’s okay to not be okay. I’m more amazed it took </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> long for you to break down. I just wish you’d talked to me about all of this earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” she repeats, quieter, breathing easier. He tugs her in closer, and she lets him, falling into his chest. Date’s never really been one for physical affection, and honestly neither has she, but in that moment? Even though she’s gross and covered in tears and snot and sweat, Date doesn’t seem to mind, and the hug is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re wrong, you know,” he tells her. “You’re not anyone’s replacement daughter. You’re the little girl I took in because I know how much it sucks to grow up in a house where every day is pain, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> kid deserves that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki goes still. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I didn’t remember it at the time, of course, but - I grew up in an orphanage, Mizuki,” he says. “It wasn’t a nice orphanage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Mizuki pulls back from him, just a little. He’s still close enough for her to soak in his warmth. She doesn’t feel… better? After her outburst, but - she does feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>calmer.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Or maybe she just feels emptier. It’s kind of hard to tell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ruffles her hair. “Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> think I’d just abandon you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> does,” Mizuki spits out bitterly before she can bite her tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Date doesn’t really react to her tone, or her words, which she’s… kind of grateful for, to be honest. She already feels like she’s treading livewire, risking a further breakdown with every second that passes, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not going to,” he says to her - promises, really. “Sucks to be you, brat, but you’re stuck with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words shouldn’t settle something panicky in her like they do. They shouldn’t leave her feeling as tremulously reassured as they do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this is Date, and this is their language. She gets him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki summons up a shaky grin. “Oh yeah? Prove it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Date’s answering grin is a lot more confident than her own - sharklike, almost, and it’s one of the first times Mizuki can really see </span>
  <em>
    <span>Date</span>
  </em>
  <span> shining through on this new face that’s actually his old face. “Fine,” he says, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but first, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to go back to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mizuki rolls her eyes, but lets Date tuck her back in - and is thankful, even though she’d never admit it, that even though he’d clearly been sleeping too, he’s now settling in on his couch with a dogeared book and the kitchen light on behind him; she doesn’t think she’d be able to get to sleep again if it was dark, or if Date had immediately dozed off and left her staring at the ceiling with her thoughts racing at a million miles a minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Mizuki,” he says, slightly pointed, but mostly warm. “Sweet dreams.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason, those five words make her want to start crying again. “Stupid Date,” she croaks out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s asleep not five minutes later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-x-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Um. What are </span>
  </em>
  <span>these, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Date?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You told me to ‘prove it,’ Mizuki.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mizuki?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m keeping my own last name, stupid old man.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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